


Not Even A Potion Can Mask This

by DaughterofDragonsChildofFire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Dean Winchester, Alpha!Sam Winchester, Alpha/Omega, Beta!Becky, Dean Winchester as an older brother figure, Episode: s07e08 Time for a Wedding, F/M, Knotting, No Beta We Die Like People Who Die, Pining, Smut, The Authoress Regrets Nothing, Well maybe not making this Dean/You/Sam, omega!reader, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterofDragonsChildofFire/pseuds/DaughterofDragonsChildofFire
Summary: Not even a demon's love potion can mask the love for an Omega . . .
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 107





	Not Even A Potion Can Mask This

**Author's Note:**

> First piece of smut I've written for this fandom. I've wanted to read something like this dealing with Alpha/Omega dynamics and the whole Time For A Wedding episode but I couldn't find much of anything for it soooo here we are. Comments and critiques are greatly appreciated :D

“Married?” you croaked.    
  
“Yeah, kid. Married.” Dean’s heavy sigh echoed over the phone line.    
  
Your hands trembled as you sat down on the crappy motel chair, your blank stare on the wall across from you. You’d been a hunter since you were 19 years old, when your father had died after he took on a job at his construction company that ended with his brains smashed open. Apparently, a thick steel cable snapped and the heavy support beams it had been holding had crushed his skull. Everyone said it was a terrible accident. You felt it wasn’t, and luckily for you, you’d stumbled onto the hex bag at the scene and wound up killing the witch who had successfully murdered your father when he turned her down for a date.    
  
You had never liked the bitchy obsessive personal assistant he’d hired three years previous anyways.    
  
After that, through some networking when you ran across psychics or other hunters, you found yourself under a sort of mentee roll with Bobby Singer. Through him, you’d heard of and met the Winchesters. You stuck mainly to ghosts and witches, with the very occasional demon thrown in to spice things up, but every now and again you teamed up with Sam and Dean to take down something or other that was too tough for you to handle solo.    
  
It had been a bit of a tough job the first time the three of you had teamed up (a wraith at an old folks home, disguised as the older matronly receptionist). Both men were Alphas, and you were an Omega. Dean had made a few direct comments about it, which Sam had tried to gently smooth out although he obviously agreed that you shouldn’t have been hunting, but after you proved to them both you were capable and intelligent, and brought your own strengths to the field, they dropped the matter entirely.    
  
Dean was a great friend, for sure, which you hadn’t been expecting considering their Alpha to your Omega. But you and he shared a love for pie and rock music (even if your tastes ran a little more 80s than 70s), and you were clearly a competent hunter he could trust to have his back. You also didn’t blame him or Sam for starting the apocalypse even if you didn’t know the full story, and you clearly cared enough about them to check in every now and again just to say hi and catch up, which gave you a plus in his book. He reacted to your heats as any Alpha would, which is to say he popped a boner and hit on you more than usual, but he respected you enough to keep his distance during both that time and his ruts, especially once you made it clear he wasn’t your type.    
  
Sam . . . Sam was something else entirely. The first time you’d met, shortly after he and Dean had made their way to the Roadhouse, there’d been clear attraction. He was, however, still hung up on Jessica and although your inner Omega whimpered in sadness at leaving him behind, you went on to live your life and he lived his. Through the years, the sparse occasional texts for aid in some department or another turned to monthly check ins, then weekly conversations, then daily little greetings or jokes and tidbits that made you smile and start to feel somewhat shy. Once he’d recovered his soul (and that had been a weird time, wanting to carry on as usual but unable to figure out why things just felt . . . off), there’d even been flirting.    
  


There was no doubt in your mind that Sam was  _ your _ Alpha, just as you were  _ his _ Omega, but with Castiel going berserk and ripping apart the wall in Sam’s mind, you’d felt it wasn’t the time to approach him about how you felt about him, and how you hoped he felt about you.    
  
But now . . .   
  
“To who? Why? He never . . .” Sam hadn’t ever mentioned any other woman, ever, to you. Had you been misinterpreting his signals? Was he just friendly after all? Were you just trying to see what you wanted?   
  
“A woman named Becky,” Dean said gruffly. “Look, something’s off with this entire set up so . . . if you want to get to Pike Creek, Delaware, you could help me figure out this case I’m sniffing at and what’s wrong with Sam.”   
  
You worried your lower lip between your teeth, your desire to fix whatever was wrong here warring with the knowledge that your heat was due soon. It wasn’t as predictable as the periods Beta women received (lucky bitches), so you couldn’t be certain when it would pop up. And you didn’t want to intrude if nothing was wrong. But if Dean said something was off . . .   
  
“I can be there as soon as I’ve wrapped this salt and burn. Give me three days.”    


* * *

You glanced around in feigned curiosity at the office, more trying to ignore the scene the woman in the white suit was causing with the secretary than out of any real desire to gather information. From what Dean had told you, and what you’d been able to piece together from the paper the past few days, there’d been simultaneous streaks of luck and death at the same time in the same place. Your brain automatically went to demon deals, but the timelines were completely out of sync with what you knew.   
  
“Are you  _ trying  _ to embarrass me?” The woman in the white suite hissed at the poor secretary. You wanted to cringe - honestly, you didn’t appreciate the way she clearly coveted her power over others. It was in the way she walked and looked down her nose at those working here.    
  
But then the door opened, which distracted you away from the snooty older woman, and out stepped a rather unremarkable looking Beta girl. Even her scent, when you discreetly inhaled to check, was unremarkable though it seemed a bit sour and unpleasant. You hesitated to call her a woman, because she was both a little slip of a thing and carried the same kind of naivety in her face and eyes that teenage girls had, and yet behind her was . . .    
  
He smelled like the air after a rainstorm, tinged with a deep Earthy grounding note and a hint of spice to keep it from being too overpowering. It never failed to make you feel calm, even if your heart started beating double time when he looked up from thanking the poor overworked woman. His eyes glanced dismissively away from his brother (and didn’t that send up a ton of red flags), before they landed on you. A smile crossed his face at the sight of you, but it was significantly different than his usual bright grin he normally greeted you with.   
  
Your heart stung a little at that, but you returned his smile as best you could. Both you and Dean stood up as he and the woman approached. “Hi Sam,” you intercepted before Dean could open his mouth. You knew Dean’s side of what had happened with Sam. You also knew that Dean might make the tension worse if he spoke up before you did, and this was neither the time nor place. “Good to see you.”    
  
“Y/N!” You expected a hug, or at least a tap on the shoulder, but none of that happened. Instead, he just continued to smile, slipping his hands into his pockets. The Beta girl who stood by his side, however, was looking at you with a furrowed brow. You figured this must be Becky. When you met her gaze, you could detect worry, apprehension, and jealousy in her eyes. But what did she have to be jealous of at the moment? She had Sam, didn’t she? Sam tugged your attention back to him when he spoke again. “Glad you’re doing well, it’s good to see you. You, ah, here helping Dean?”   
  
There were a million things you could have said right at that moment. Everything from the snark that was inspired by the petty part of you, to the broken hearted plea your Omega made calling to her Alpha, but you choose not to say any of that. Instead you just nodded your head in answer, “Even if it’s something simple, better to have backup and not need it then need it and not have it, yeah?”   
  
“Sammy honey, we’d better be going,” Becky broke in, interrupting whatever Sam was going to say. Her tone was more than a little boisterous and overly sweet. It grated on your nerves and you felt your muscles stiffen as she continued on, “We’ve got a lot of work to do before our _ romantic honeymoon _ getaway.” Was the emphasis necessary, you wondered? Or was she just trying to tell you, without saying so, that Sam was hers?    
  
“Yeah, yeah of course,” he turned away to stare adoringly at the young Beta, but much like when he’d had his soul removed and was faking his way through emotions, this felt . . . unnatural. Forced. Off.   
  
Oh you believed that  _ he _ believed he was in love. But after this little display, you just didn’t think it was really Sam who was really in love. Clearly, the girl was more than attached to your Alpha. You didn’t need your hunter smarts to figure that out. It was plain as day in her scent, present in the way she smiled up at him, practically non-verbally screamed to the world when she reached forward to wrap her arms around his to press her body against him in a possessive PDA sort of way. While part of you was both jealous and sick at the thought of your Alpha with another woman, there was an equally large part that pitied the girl. She felt she was in love (though your mind wondered if she even really knew what true romantic love was, she seemed young and naive in the ways of the world), and she wanted the object of her affections.    
  
Even so, you had the suspicion that Becky had manufactured what Sam was feeling now. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure that she would continue to want Sam as time went on and life happened.    
  
Besides, everyone knew a Beta couldn’t really handle an Alpha’s knot. That was obviously something she hadn’t thought of - Sam needed to knot during his rut - and that lack of satisfaction would undoubtedly cause problems for them down the line. Biology could only be avoided for so long. If he didn’t get to knot his mate during his rut, he could get horribly sick . . . or he’d try to knot her anyways and cause some serious harm.    


Much as you felt you didn’t like the girl for whatever spellwork she’d dropped on your Alpha, you wouldn’t wish a feral Alpha during their rut on anyone. 

Sam turned back to you and his brother, addressing Dean this time. “Craig’s clean. And Becky handled it like a pro.” It was clearly meant to be a parting shot, as after he said it, he pushed past the two of you without so much as a goodbye.    
  
Becky threw a look at you over her shoulder as they left. It seemed more than a little smug, how a child would glance at another when they had something that everyone wanted. While it did sting, you reminded yourself of the way things had gone before the random out of the blue decision Sam had made to marry this random person he’d never even mentioned before. That had felt real, like the true  Sam, not artificial like this exchange had felt. Either way, you could ask him once this case was cleared up. Hopefully, he’d feel the same, and this whole mess could get put behind you all.   


* * *

Or maybe you wouldn’t.    
  
You’d broken into Becky’s apartment after saving the CEO’s wife from being crushed by a giant light fixture. Neither Sam nor Becky were there, so you took the time to try and figure out where they had gone. Thanks to Becky’s Twitter open on the computer, and to Dean,who spotted a picture on the Beta’s computer desk, you had figured out where Becky had taken Sam. Dean had also shared his idea that Sam or Becky or both would be next to die from the bizarre rigged demon deals, and you agreed. The two of you had then made an immediate beeline for the cabin in Dean’s old junker he’d hotwired in the city. 

The issue, as far as you were concerned, was not where they were. Well, not anymore. The issue was what if -    
  
“Sam won’t mark her, kid, so you can calm down. I can smell you getting worked up,” Dean muttered as he took another turn, going perhaps a hair faster than he really out to be.    
You turned from the window towards him. Despite his reassurance, you just weren’t convinced. “Who knows what she signed up for Dean. What if she wished that she was Sam’s true mate or something?”   
  
“I don’t think she did, or else she’d smell like an Omega, and she definitely didn’t,” Dean reasoned. His eyes glanced over at you before he returned them to the road. You were out of the small town now, going past some fields and heading towards the lake on the outskirts.    
  
“But . . . Sam might still mark her. What if we get there and he’s in the middle of it or worse he’s just marked her? There’s no way to remove that. Even most witches won’t touch the bond between mates,” anxiety seeped into your body as you finished speaking. You took a deep breath in an attempt to ease yourself down, because you knew that you’d need a clear head when you approached this. It was easier said than done, though.   
  
“Then we’ll deal with it then. But, Y/N, look . . .” the elder Winchester heaved a sigh. “Sam . . . even with all the crazy shit going on in his head right now, he still focuses on you. He talks to you all the time, he mentions you when he isn’t talking to you, and I kinda wish I couldn’t smell how badly he wants to knot you in the morning when he wakes up out of those wet dreams. You’re his Omega, he’s your Alpha, and nothing’s gonna change that. He won’t mark her because she isn’t you, period.”   
  
You mulled that over a bit. Dean hadn’t lied to you about Sam before now (other topics he had, but usually his intentions were honorable even if his actions weren’t). While it didn’t eliminate the possibility, at least in your mind, it did help reassure you that things would work out somehow. You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, before you leaned forward and clicked on the radio to a classic rock station. The music would help distract you. At least for the next few moments.    


* * *

When you’d gotten to the cabin, you’d both drawn your pistols and approached the front door. You could see lights burning inside, but didn’t hear any obvious sex noises, which was both a relief and somewhat concerning. What if they’d just finished?   
  
Dean had clearly wanted to bust in. You didn’t see the need, and reached forward for the handle and twisted it. With a click, the door opened inwards and you both entered, pistols ready. You weren’t really certain what you were expecting. Perhaps you truly believed you’d see Sam and Becky, naked, under the covers on the bed, or on the couch, or something?    
  
What you saw instead, through the glass door, was Becky and Sam on the bed. She pulled away from one of his wrists, a piece of cloth in her hand, and another on her lap. Your Alpha sat up as he said something quietly to her.    
  
In her hand was a bottle of liquid. You’d been around enough witches to recognize some kind of magical concoction when you saw it, and everything in the room began to take on the faintest tinge of red. Anger swelled in you. Had she just used another dose on him? Was that why he was so complacent about being so close to her?   
  
Dean set the safety on his gun when Sam got out of the bed, a look of relief on his face as he approached the two of you. He wasn’t wearing pants. Your brain stuttered over that sight, partially aroused at the sight of your Alpha in his underwear, and partially enraged that it was most likely Becky who had either set up a situation where Sam removed his pants or, more likely by the red marks on his wrists, removed them herself. You tried to get your brain to focus as Sam spoke, “Dean, it’s Guy, the event planner at Becky’s high school reunion, he’s the one who-”   
  
“He’s the crossroads demon, yeah, okay,” Dean said, furrowed confusion decorating his brow. He wasn’t sure what was going on right at this second and you could empathize with that. “Sammy, you-”   
  
But Sam wasn’t listening anymore. He stopped in front of you, and you looked up at him, your gun in your hand at your side as you tried to grapple with what was currently going on at this moment. One thing was for certain, at least. This was  _ your _ Sam, not the fake one who’d been running around with Becky. That was good.    
  
Your train of thought completely derailed at the first brush of his lips on yours.    
  
Something in you sang with satisfaction, triumph, the sheer feeling of right, of coming home, that was present in that kiss. It was smooth, firm, and contained a barely leashed hunger just beyond that no-nonsense first kiss.   


_ Mine. Yours. _

That’s what this kiss said to you, at least. You hoped that was what it said to Sam too.   
  
Your hands flailed a moment, and you mentally blessed whomever had pulled your weapon away from your hand. With your chests pressed together tightly as he held you, you had very little room to maneuver, but you managed to slide your right hand to cup his cheek and the other into his luxuriously soft brown locks. His right arm was firmly locked around your waist where his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, and his left was pressed against the middle of your upper back, his fingers wound in your hair.   
  
It might’ve been a few seconds, or a few moments, or hell even a few years that you relished in pressing your lips to Sam’s, which he enthusiastically returned, until Dean cleared his throat loudly. “Look I’m glad you guys know you need to work out your weird uh, issues, but can we focus for a second? Demon? Gank? Then you guys can go back to bumping uglies.”   
  
Sam pulled back from you as you snorted in laughter, because of course the older Alpha would use a phrase like “bumping uglies”. His grip, however, did not loosen. Instead, he rested his forehead to yours. His eyes said everything he wanted to tell you now. But you couldn’t. You needed the details of Becky’s deal, and you needed a plan to deal with the rogue demon.    
  
“Yeah,” Sam murmured roughly, one hand sliding to hold yours where it still rested against his cheek. “After.”   
  
You shivered at the promise in his voice.    


* * *

Becky acquitted herself surprisingly well during the fight. She stabbed the demon who’d been about to kill Sam with the demon knife, which made him drop dead on the spot. While you still had no desire to deal with her at all (and the petty part of you wanted to rub it in her face that Sam  _ did not _ in fact want anything to do with her), you could admit that she’d played the part to trap Guy well, and her actions had saved both you and Sam from death.    
  
That was  _ all _ you were willing to give her, however. She had tried to take your mate, and more importantly, she’d removed Sam’s choice from him. You were a huge believer in autonomy. It guided a lot of your ethical decisions and your questionable moral compass, which you needed in this profession. To have free will completely removed, and to change the man you loved into what she wanted him to be in order to make him fit whatever idea she had in her head . . . and more than that, that she knew what she was doing and still went on to do it . . . 

  
As far as you were concerned, she was very lucky she had saved your lives and had eventually stopped dosing Sam with the love potion. With the way things are now, you’d take the annulment and her promise to never contact or come near any of you ever again.   
  
“He really . . . Sam really cares about you,” Becky murmured to you when Sam and Dean had walked out the door. “You’re lucky . . .”  
  
You wondered what she meant by that, but you weren’t interested in sticking around to find out. Becky had done what she’d done out of some misguided attempt to make her life and herself feel better. She needed therapy, not a man. Well, maybe both, but not Sam.   
  
Especially considering she was a book superfan. You shuddered in disgust. While you hadn’t ever read them yourself, because you considered them a massive invasion of privacy, you knew of their existence and what they were supposed to represent. Being a fangirl was fine, hell you fangirled over celebs all the time, but allowing it to get to the point where it was an obsession that drove your actions?  
  
Dean, Sam, and you had driven away from Pike Creek, meeting up again in Rising Sun Maryland before you all agreed to stop for the night. After a short meal of pizza in the boys’ room, you had returned to yours for a shower and sleep.   
  
Except that sleep was the last thing on your mind. After the fastest shower you could manage while still cleansing yourself, you paced back and forth over the crummy carpet. Should you text Sam? You needed to talk to him, especially after that kiss earlier. However, you could feel yourself beginning to warm up. Your heat was coming - you’d almost forgotten, with the case and Becky and Sam. Did you want to talk to him when all your mind demanded was his knot buried inside your cunt, coated in your slick and cum?  
  
But he would feel amazing, most likely, the back of your mind whispered. He was probably hung like a stallion in its prime, and his balls were full of seed that could fill you up over and over. His knot was probably thick and would stretch you so wonderfully, better than any toy you’d tried to use to appease your biology. And just after he knotted you, after he slathered your pussy in his hot sticky cum, his teeth would bury themselves in your neck, marking you as his forever.  
  
You stopped pacing, pausing with a dreamy sigh and the sensation of your body producing slick. You shuddered at the feeling, almost moaning as your panties stuck to your labia and slipped through just enough to rub at your clit. Maybe you needed to get off first, to try and keep your mind focused on talking to Sam.   
  
A knock on your door distracted you from the need that was slowly beginning to heat your blood. You rushed over and fumbled with the chain, then the lock and door knob, mindful of your salt lines. With a click, the lock disengaged, and you opened the door to see Sam standing in front of you. His nostrils flared as your scent reached his nose, and he swallowed roughly. “Y/N? You uh . . . you’re . . .”  
  
You managed a nod, stepping back slightly to allow him room to get inside. He didn’t move for a moment, his eyes sweeping over your body. His mouth parted slightly, his tongue slipping out quickly to wet his lips. His eyes dilated, the iris almost completely eclipsed by the pupil.   
  
There was another moment of tension that built, both of you just staring at each other. His scent affected you as much as yours affected him, but instead of the calm it normally brought, arousal surged through your system. You needed him. You needed your Alpha.  
  
In the next second, the door was slammed shut behind him and you were caught between the wall and Sam’s hard body. His lips captured yours in a brutal kiss, all hunger and teeth and hot desire. You whined, feeling his thigh push between yours, providing you with a sense of friction you desired. He pulled back slightly, chest heaving, just long enough to catch his breath before he returned to your skin, dropping nips and kisses down your jaw and neck. “Make yourself cum on my thigh ‘mega,” Sam said roughly, his voice demanding and rough with lust. “Then I’ll make you cum on my dick.”  
  
His hands slipped down to your hips, drawing them back and forth along his muscled leg. The pressure was perfect on your clit, with extra friction from your panties. You whined in pleasure, feeling yourself get closer to that elusive edge. “Want your knot Alpha,” you panted eagerly.   
  
“You’ll get it,” Sam promised, dragging you harder against him. “You’ll get my knot right in that sweet little pussy, fill you up so good.”  
  
With a cry, your orgasm washed through you, leaving you feeling a bit lightheaded. Sam was already maneuvering you away from the wall, stripping you of the oversized tshirt you wore to bed as pajamas and your soaked through panties.  
  
It shouldn’t have been as erotic as it was to watch him smell the crotch your panties and lap at the slick gathered on the cotton. As it was, it caused you to flush all over with heat. “Please Alpha,” you begged, settling onto the bed on your back. “Want you, want you buried in my pussy.”  
  
He groaned, removing his shirt, sweats, and boxes as quickly as he could. He almost tripped in his eagerness to get to the bed, inciting a soft giggle from you that quickly shifted to a moan when his mouth found your nipples. His tongue swirled and flicked over the hard buds, sending jolts of bliss down to your clit and causing you to writhe under him. Sam was enjoying this as much as you were. You could feel his cock throb against your hip, blurts of pre-cum already slipping from the thick mushroomed head of his cock. The Alpha above you sat back after another moment of lavishing your breasts with attention, giving you your first glimpse of his arousal.  
  
Your jaw dropped. Sam chuckled slyly.   
  
He was definitely an Alpha. Long, thick, jutting proudly from neatly trimmed hair, his cock was the biggest you’d seen, and for certain the prettiest. Beneath his length hung his perfectly suspended sac, big and full and judging by how his cock jumped as you stared at it, aching to fill you. You swallowed and licked your lips. For a moment you worried drool might have escaped your mouth as it watered.   
  
“You alright there ‘mega?” Sam teased, wrapping one hand around his dick and stroking himself from root to tip and then back down. You whimpered softly at the sight, spreading your legs wide for him. Though clearly wanting to tease you more, Sam wasted no time in slotting himself between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slick slit. Your hips jumped as the tip caught your clit, sending another bolt of desire lancing through your body. “Need my cock?”  
  
“Alpha, Alpha please, please I need you, I need your knot,” words spilled from your lips and you couldn’t be certain what you said. Your mind was in a hazy lusty fog, and would remain buried until you were satiated with a knot in your eager cunt.  
  
With a growl, Sam notched the head of his dick into your dripping hole and thrust forward, sheathing himself fully on the first push. You screamed at the intrusion. Your earlier thoughts were confirmed. Sam’s cock stretched your pussy in ways you had never been stretched before. He didn’t just ruin you for other men, he obliterated any other lover you’d had. If there was any doubt in your mind that he wasn’t your mate, it was gone, because despite the burn and the pain that was just on this side of pleasure radiating from your core, he felt absolutely perfect inside you.   
  
“God, feels so warm, so wet . . . perfect little Omega pussy, so good around my dick,” Sam snarled, his body shuddering under the effort to remain still. It wasn’t until you shifted under him a moment later, tugging him to kiss you, that he slid backwards and then forwards again, burying himself inside you once more. The pace was slow, at first, deep and hitting spots inside you that you hadn’t ever dreamed of existing. But all too soon, the craving and thirst for each other was evident as Sam picked up the pace. It was shallow and rough and needy, hands roaming each other’s bodies and sloppy messy kisses shared between growls and moans and sighs and whines.   
  
Sam paused for a second, pulling all the way out of your core. His dick was shiny with your slick, but he didn’t let you look long, gripping your hips and helping you roll over onto your stomach. “Present, Omega,” he rasped, giving your ass a smack that made you gasp and cry out. You pulled yourself onto your knees, your pussy on clear display, and your Alpha once again speared his length deep inside you.  
  
“Alpha!” you screamed, your voice hoarse from the words that continued to mindless leave your lips between sounds that expressed nothing but bliss at Sam’s actions. Your cunt clenched around his dick, making him groan as you began to milk him, body begging for his cum. Both of you could tell he wouldn’t last much longer. Already his knot was growing larger, catching on your entrance as he tried to continue with the long strokes that brought the both of you great satisfaction. It took another few thrusts before he shoved his knot into your pussy, and with a roar, he spilled his cum inside you. His orgasm trigger another wave in you, the feeling of his seed painting your walls keeping your release going. It was enough to distract you from the pain of his teeth finding your neck, leaving his mark and his claim on you for the world to see.  
  
There was more to be done - you would mark him in turn once his knot had receded and your heat came back from its temporary satiation, but for now, calm stole through you, leaving you feeling nothing but pure relaxed euphoria.   
  
“I should’ve asked,” Sam murmured, licking the wound clean. The enzymes in his saliva would help the wound to scar and prevent infection. “If you wanted this.”  
  
You sighed softly, wincing at the tug of his knot inside you while he gently maneuvered you to your sides, wrapping his arms around you. “I’ve wanted this . . . for a while now, Sam. I just . . . didn’t know how to say it, and it never seemed like the right time.”   
  
There was an amused huff from behind you, your Alpha burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent. “Let’s be honest. Would there have ever been a right time?”  
  
“Probably not,” you agreed, “But after everything with Becky, I . . .”  
  
“You know I didn’t really love her right?” Sam murmured. “Even when I was with her I couldn’t stop talking about you. She’d do or say something and I’d just mention you . . .”  
  
“So that’s what she meant,” you responded. “She told me you really cared about me. I guess you had to if not even a demon deal could make you stop.”  
  
“You’re my Omega,” Sam said simply. “More than that, you’re the woman I love. It’d take more than a love potion to make me stop loving you.”  
  
You smiled, closing your eyes. There was more to sort through here - you wouldn’t stop hunting and wouldn’t want Sam to do so either, and neither of you had discussed pups though thankfully you were on the Depo shot so birth control wasn’t an issue at the moment - but for now, you were content to bask in the afterglow. You’d talk more about everything later.  



End file.
